


Happy Halloween

by captaindanger



Category: Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Halloween Costumes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaindanger/pseuds/captaindanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate smoothed down her bright blue shirt with the shiny white star on the breast. She was just the tiniest bit nervous, but also giddy with anticipation at seeing America’s face. It was October 31st, and she’d only just decided three days before what she was going to be for Halloween: America Chavez.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Halloween

Kate smoothed down her bright blue shirt with the shiny white star on the breast. She was just the tiniest bit nervous, but also giddy with anticipation at seeing America’s face. It was October 31st, and she’d only just decided three days before what she was going to be for Halloween: America Chavez. 

They hadn’t been going out very long; Kate had only worked up the courage to ask America to go steady five months ago (there had been kissing and heavy petting before that, of course). They had slowly been getting to know each other. America now brought her a cup of black coffee every time she came over to her apartment, and Kate would rub her neck and shoulders after a tussle with whatever aliens were trying to invade Earth that week. 

However, Kate still wasn’t completely sure about America’s sense of humor. There were lots of jokes about punching, which got much funnier when she realized America wasn’t being serious, and sarcastic jabs accompanied with a smirk. She didn’t get a lot of Kate’s references to pop culture, which made sense since she grew up in a completely different universe (or several different universes) but Kate was remedying that with marathons of all her favorite movies and television shows. America especially liked these marathons because of the pizza and would tolerate Lucky laying himself across her lap like a blanket while they watched the Godfather movies. 

Despite all this, Kate didn’t know how her girlfriend would react to her costume. She had curled her hair like America’s, small, springy curls that she had spent hours on and left her looking more like Taylor Swift circa  
2008 than Miss America. She’d found some cheap gold hoops in a drug store. She prayed her skin wouldn’t react badly to them, like a terrible incident when she was 17 and had attempted to pierce her nose. She tried not to think about it too much.

She had surreptitiously never returned America’s denim jacket with the patriotic trimmings when she had left it one night to go save the world somewhere while Kate slept soundly. It was mostly because it was warm and smelled like America, but now it was conveniently part of her costume. She put it over a red cardigan (she had no red hoodies). Her black shorts didn’t have gold buttons down the sides, but it did have her old high school’s mascot (the Hawks, coincidentally) on one cheek and GO! emblazoned in reddish-brown and white on the other. The red Doc Martens she had found in a thrift store were a little too big for her, but she figured she could just give them to America once the night was over.

She heard a clap of thunder that made her nearly jump out of her skin, followed by canned, maniacal laughter. “Clint!” she shouted in annoyance. She could hear him chuckling over the sound effects still emanating from the plastic skull he’d been carrying around. Some might think Clint wasn’t one to get into the holiday spirit, but in the case of Halloween, he was very enthusiastic (probably too enthusiastic). The thought of making someone piss their pants in fear was all too enticing for him to pass up.

She looked at herself once more in the mirror and shoved a red knit beanie over her hair, which was already starting to frizz. She shut the bathroom door and walked down the short hallway to the living room. She had decorated it as best she could with what she could find at the dollar store. There were webs hanging from the ceilings with tiny plastic spiders on them; skeletons draped in dyed burlap-like material that made spooky noises when they sensed movement; plastic jack-o-lanterns with little LED tea lights inside them, flickering; and an orange and black bowl with mixed candies heaped inside of it. Clint sat on the sofa, surrounded by candy wrappers, a pile of more candy on his lap. A pair of Styrofoam devil horns sat on his blond hair (fitting, thought Kate) and he had a red shirt on. That was about as much effort as Clint was willing to put into a costume. Lucky lay by his feet, his tailing thumping the carpet when he saw Kate. She had bought him a dinosaur costume and taken about a thousand pictures of him with her phone because he looked so cute. Friday the 13th was on the television. Clint glanced over at her.

“I don’t get it,” he said, looking her up and down.

Kate crossed her arms. “What don’t you get?”

“Who are you supposed to be?”

“America, duh! I thought it was pretty straightforward.”

“America, the country or America, the person?” 

“Why would I dress up as a country?”

Clint shrugged and returned his attention to the television, where someone was getting brutally murdered in a bathroom. “Kind of a dumb costume idea, if you ask me.” 

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?” Kate walked over to the candy bowl, perched on a side table next to the couch, and moved it to the kitchen island away from Clint. “Stop eating all the candy,” she snapped.

“Why? The only kids trick-or-treating in the building are Simone’s boys and the little girl in 2B. We’re gonna end up eating it all anyway.” He stuck an entire fun-sized Three Musketeers bar in his mouth and chewed while looking pointedly at her.

A knock interrupted her glaring at Clint. Kate froze, suddenly terrified. What if America thought she was stupid and weird? What if she was offended? Oh God, she should have thought this through.

“Your girlfriend’s here,” declared Clint around a mouthful of chocolate, eyes never leaving the television. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled sarcastically, finally willing herself to move. She walked slowly toward the door. She was curious as to what America had dressed up as. She had seemed excited at the concept of wearing a costume, and she couldn't begin to imagine what she had chosen. Maybe it would be something revealing, Kate hoped. She wondered what America would look in a sexy cowgirl outfit…

She undid the bolts and threw open the door. “Guess what-” she began, only for her mouth to drop open. 

America stood in front of her, dressed impeccably as Kate Bishop. Her hair was straight, and Kate was shocked at how different she looked without her halo of curls. Her body was clad in a purple jumpsuit almost identical to Kate’s, with one longer sleeve and a crotch-to-neck zipper. Kate was pleasantly surprised at how the suit clung to her curves and showed off her (frankly amazing) abs. She had on black lace-up boots and fingerless gloves, and was clutching a toy crossbow in her left hand. She brought her arm up and shot Kate in the face with a tiny, plastic dart. Kate barely registered it. America had a shit-eating grin on her face. “Surprise,” she announced.

Kate burst into laughter. “Oh my god!” she gasped. “Oh my god, this isn't happening!” She bent at the waist, holding her stomach. “This is unbelievable.”

America sized her up. “I guess you’re me, then? My clothes don’t look half bad on you,” she said smugly. Kate felt herself blush.

“Shut up,” she laughed. “And a crossbow? Really?”

“I couldn't find a regular bow. Besides, this one I can actually shoot with,” America said, smiling proudly. “Are you ready to go? I don’t want to be late for Tommy’s party.”

“Yeah, let me just grab my bag,” she said, still chuckling. She picked her purse up and grabbed the door handle. “Bye, boys! Seriously, Clint, save some candy for the kids.” She heard him grunt acquiescently as she closed the door. 

She turned to America. “How did you know, anyway?" she asked the girl leaning up against the wall, crossbow in hand.

“Know what?” she asked back.

“That I was gonna dress up as you? I only had the idea a few days ago.”  
America kicked herself off the wall. “I've been planning this outfit for three months, _preciosa._ You don’t find a jumpsuit like this in stores.”

“Oh?” Kate simpered, delighted. “Why?”

“I guess you inspire me.” America linked her arm through Kate’s and they began walking. “We should get going already, I don’t want to be late. We’re definitely gonna win the costume contest, this is some mushy couple shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not 100% sure if preciosa is used correctly because I'm not good at Spanish, so anyone who does speak Spanish, if I'm using it wrong pls tell me. Thank.


End file.
